


Not Exactly About Hollywood Parties

by J (j_writes)



Category: Entourage, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-10
Updated: 2011-05-10
Packaged: 2017-10-19 05:26:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_writes/pseuds/J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Just...<i>California</i>, man.  You can't make a living off that face out here?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Exactly About Hollywood Parties

**Author's Note:**

> kiss snippet written in response to a prompt by Harborshore.

"I'm running out of _time_ , E," Vince said with one of those expressions that left Eric torn between wrapping an arm around his shoulders and wringing his throat.

"No, you're out of your fucking mind, is what you are," Eric replied, slumping lower down in the booth. "You make it sound like you're sixty or something."

"You think I'm gonna be this pretty forever?" Vince made a kissy face at him.

"Probably not," Eric conceded. "I mean, look at Drama."

Vince scoffed. "He was never pretty."

"That's right, you got the beauty." Eric thought about it for a second. "Okay, no, that doesn't work either, because that'd mean he got the brains."

"Nah." Vince sprawled back and tipped his head to lean against Eric's shoulder. " _You_ got the brains."

Eric jostled him off, but smiled a little. "It's just - _California_ , man. You can't make a living off that face out here?"

"Maybe." Vince shrugged. "Stage. Modeling." He eyed Eric. "You don't think I can be a movie star?"

"That's not what I said."

"You think I'm going to be Johnny Drama's little brother my entire life."

"No." Vince looked dubious. "I don't," Eric insisted. "I think that _you_ think that's what you're going to be."

"I'm not the one who doesn't believe in this," Vince said, an edge of coldness creeping into his voice.

Eric rubbed at his forehead. "This band's giving me a fucking headache," he said, instead of acknowledging Vince's tone. "How'd you say you knew them, anyway?"

"I didn't." Vince leered. "See that girl in the merch booth?"

Eric craned his neck. She was short, curvy, and had dark hair dyed something unnatural at the tips. "Right," he said.

"She's got a friend," Vince said, elbowing him. He leaned closer. "Say you'll come to LA with me, and I'll introduce you."

Eric laughed and shook his head. "You're impossible."

"To resist, maybe." Vince beamed at him and pushed out his chair. "I'm gonna - " he nodded towards the girl.

"Sure." Eric gestured towards the bathrooms. "I'll see you."

"Seriously," Vince leaned down to squeeze Eric's shoulders. "Come say hi. Her friend's cute. You like cute." He disappeared into the crowd, leaving Eric sitting there, shaking his head.

The hallway off the bathrooms led to an alley behind the club where a crowd of people was standing, smoking. Eric pulled up a piece of wall and took a swallow of his beer, tipping his head back against the bricks and gulping in the cool air. "Fucking California," he said out loud.

"You lost, man?" The guy next to him asked.

"What?" Eric rolled his head enough to see the the guy out of the corner of his eye.

"This look like California to you?"

Eric shrugged. "There's ugly alleys behind shitty bars there, too, right?"

"Maybe," the guy conceded. "But probably not as many Yankees caps."

"Man has a point," Eric said, tipping his bottle.

"It happens occasionally." The guy dropped his cigarette, stubbed it out, and immediately lit another. He offered one to Eric, who hesitated just long enough to be awkward, then took it and let the guy light it for him. "Brian," he offered, then asked, "So what's wrong with California? Other than everything, I mean."

"Eric," he said, and shrugged. "This friend of mine. Wants to be a movie star."

"Don't we all?" Brian said, rolling his eyes.

" _I_ don't," Eric said with feeling.

Brian laughed. "Me neither, man. Me neither." He looked Eric over, like he was assessing him. "Think he can do it?"

"What?" Eric blinked. "Oh, Vince? I don't know." He looked at the wall opposite them, thought of Vince's ridiculous pleading smile. "Yeah. Maybe."

"You going with him?" Brian asked. "To fucking California."

"What? No."

Brian's lips curved up in a smile. "Sure," he agreed easily.

Eric frowned. "Look," he said. "Thanks for the smoke, but don't pretend you know me."

Brian shrugged. "Fix that," he said. "Tell me why I'm wrong." He waved the hand holding his cigarette at Eric. "Look, I'm a guy who's spent all his professional life following bands around the country, trying to make them better than they have any right to be. I'm saying, maybe your friend needs that too."

"Vince isn't hiring," Eric said.

"Clearly not," Brian said. "He's got you."

Eric opened his mouth to answer, but ended up with a faceful of Vince's shirt instead. "E!" Vince said, beaming and wrapping himself companionably around Eric's shoulders. "Lexi says she knows a guy who's throwing this killer party. You in?"

Eric wriggled out of his grasp and looked at Brian, who was eyeing the two of them, looking vastly amused. "Next band's mine," he said in an undertone.

Vince looked at Brian with sudden interest. "You're in one of the bands?" he asked.

"No, I manage."

"Oh." Vince turned back to Eric. "C'mon, my man, ladies await."

"You know," Eric said, "I think I'll hang out here."

"Yeah?" Vince frowned, then looked Brian up and down like he was trying to figure out what he'd missed.

"Yeah," said Eric.

Vince sighed and pulled Eric closer to him again. "Man, I'm going to have to work on you before we go to LA," he said. He smooshed his face against Eric's temple, then pulled back, waving over his shoulder as he disappeared back into the crowd.

Brian pushed off the wall, a tiny smile playing at his lips. "Trying to prove something?" he asked.

"Not to you," Eric replied. He nodded towards the door. "Buy you a beer," he said. "Let's check out this band of yours."

By the time Eric left the bar, the sky was beginning to look a little bit lighter. His throat was scratchy, his head pleasantly buzzing with beer, and there was an itchy feeling across his face that he was desperately hoping wasn't going to look like stubble burn in the morning. When he reached his front steps, Vince was there, sprawled out across them, head tipped back, looking at the sky.

"Have fun?" he asked, not quite looking up at Eric.

"I did, yeah," Eric said, leaning against the railing above him. "You?"

"Not as much as if you'd been there," Vince said. He sighed deeply. "As much as I hate to admit that a little dude like you can cramp my style," he said, "I think having you around might just make me more awesome."

"Maybe," Eric agreed. "Better than you have any right to be." He smiled a little to himself, then offered Vince a hand up, and led him into the house.


End file.
